Coming from:
https://animebase.me/threads/haesu-027.755844/#post-22074877
This post encompasses a D-rank mission containing the following storyboard elements:
“You’ll be puking your guts into the sea soon at this pace,” Hawke remarked, exhaling some smoke from the cheroot he was smoking. The leader of the Brothers was leaning against the wooden frame of the ship’s wheelhouse, casually watching one of his men emptying his stomach over the railing of the ship. In the years he had known him Misk had never once found his sea legs. Sailing was anathema to Misk, so the Brothers watched him on a rotation to ensure he did not end up in the water for one reason or another.
They had paid a tradesman for passage across the Kaizoku Sea. He had the space they needed, as he was traveling there with an empty haul to store up. The man had raised some questions about the peculiar train of wagons, animals and men, but it was nothing that a few coins could not cure. In the end the Captain and his small crew kept to themselves in the wheelhouse, leaving the Brothers free to roam both the hull and deck of the two-masted cog.
“You don’t have to worry boss,” Misk said inbetween two dry-heaves, flashing Hawke a disgustingly sloppy smile. “I can handle mese-
blergh!”
Hawke watched on in silence as his Brother sacrificed yet another stream of projectile vomit to the sea, then took another drag of his tobacco.
“We should be able to find a buyer for the sculptures at the port,” he mused aloud, trying to drown out the gagging noises.
“Won’t be no problem, bo-
blergh!”
“Need to get rid of ‘em, then lay low with the boys we took.”
“Y-you think the families’ll pay?” Misk managed an uninterrupted sentence with difficulty. He was pale as a ghost.
Hawke just shrugged and flicked the stub of his cheroot into the sea.
“Five ransoms’ll do to make an example. They’ll cough up the gold once we send them a couple of pickled limbs.”
Misk nodded enthusiastically in agreement, but quickly regretted the excessive motion as he quite visibly threw up in his mouth and leaned back over the railing.
“I won’t hold your hair, Misk,” Hawke said mock-apologetically. “But I can tell you a thing or two about the gumbo Tom’ll be serving tonight.”
“Oh Gods have mercy,” Misk moaned miserably.
And the Brothers sailed onwards.